In daydreams, my love, I see your face;

I see you in every familiar place,

Memories of you are all I’ve found—

The Ghosts of us are all around.

In shadows, I run to catch you there,

I smell the fragrance of your hair,

A dream like state, bodies moves slow,

When I catch up—it`s no one I know.

That was yesterday—now it`s all gone;

It's like an old lost lover's song.

It's true—I can only reminisce,

I long to feel your warmth—your kiss.

But that was then, and this is now,

I must forget—move on somehow,

I hope you also wonder why—

We both see stars in the same night sky.

Will there be another love?

Should I pray to God above?

Should I risk this heart of mine?

Or think of you till the end of time…

S.W. Biddulph, 2012

Like the slow brown coloring of a rose

That once sat in a beautiful vase,

Is the love that once shown its bright red color,

Where did that love go?

Like the cold-silent breeze in the

Field of a lonely mountain valley,

Is the feeling of a love that's lost—

Where did our love go?

Like a fog filled night where sounds

Are only heard in the distance, is the lonely

Feeling of a heart who's lover is lost—

Where did you go my love?

Scott Biddulph © 2012

Like an exquisite woman, deep waters

exhibit their splendor and harmony, unmatched.

Their passage, gradual and constant,

is filled with lucid wisdom.

On occasion, her disparate rapids churn;

Still, her banks nurture flowers, berries, and ferns.

Such power in her tacit depths.

Silence is her true narrative.

Secret moments fill her expanse.

Memories evoked in Heaven, someday.

And her beauty…

Her essence stands in magnificence,

each curve and line of her body is unique—

distinctive.

Her skin—a reflection of the things she touches—

shimmers as it mirrors the lives that she passed by.

Her legacy, like her compassion, leaves its mark on creation.

She shall be in the new Heaven and Earth for her deeds;

Her creator is well pleased.

©Scott Biddulph 2016

My heart, it knows both space and time,

A place that`s filled with thoughts sublime,

Yet often comes that cold gray sky,

And brings the rains of tears once cried.

And from a broken heart, it seems,

Comes shattered souls and broken dreams,

And as they move like crashing waves,

The setting sun my heart does crave.

And washing down the streets of life,

Are pieces of my desperate strife,

The rains inside my heart it seems,

Flow ever forth like rushing streams.

And when the quiet skies return,

Again for love, my heart will yearn,

And faith will grasp at every chance,

To find again a true romance.

     I’ll Forget the rains inside my heart,

To believe in love—a brand new start,

For love is truly a dying art,

Yes, a real true love will never part.

© Scott Biddulph, 2012

Seduction mimics chains made of steel.

Pleasure, in the end, is hard, cold, and suffocating.

Like pythons wrapping around innocent skin,

is the feel of the chains of my sin.

At times, I stare from a far distance—safe for a while.

I avoid her eyes—she is alluring and ravenously adorned.

Her dance—a dance of seduction.

My eyes see, and yet are blind.

Her sweet fragrance fills my nostrils, to the depths of my soul.

The emptiness—within—washes away, a flooding summer rain;

floods of yearning bring only pain.

In this vacuous craving, what do we gain?

This black hole of the human soul...

We`re worn down by our pleasures, not our pain.

Turning, I looked over my shoulder,

I was watching life’s scenes reappear,

when I looked in the mirror, I was older,

with the cries of past sins in my ears.

The past feels like a dark valley,

or a dark forest where soldiers were slain;

muddy rivers from a great storm’s finale,

an old mansion with spirits, insane.

And how do I find a wise answer,

to leaving the past far behind?

Sin glares from afar like a dancer,

whose smile is erotic and kind.

Wave upon wave of each memory,

crashing the shores in my mind,

pushing the sands of experience,

into dunes on a beach I can’t climb.

Until finally the winds of tomorrow,

grab hold and they rush me away;

To a place where there is no more sorrow;

and my mind always stays in today.

S.W. Biddulph, 2014